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This is a typical Filipino home, presented for comparison with Candipallas. In reality, it's a home belonging to the lower class among Filipinos. It's better than the residences around the Abakhan River, but...

The monthly rent is 4,000 pesos (approximately 100,000 KRW), including internet and water. They say two people live here. I'm originally an experientialist and tend to like experiencing various things firsthand, especially things that can be compared. Even better if they relate to human desires. Yes, it's an economic comparison. This is also one of the main reasons I came to the Philippines. At first, it was for friends and entertainment. But the more I stayed, the more I found an indescribable charm unique to the Philippines that I couldn't experience or understand in Korea.

Slums spread out right next to the upper-class residences of Candipallas...

Beggars opening doors at every convenience store... countless beggars on the streets... women in numerous entertainment establishments who don't hesitate to sell themselves. A woman showing her family and home to the man who bought her... When asked to choose a menu item at Jollibee because she said she was very hungry, she confidently chose the most expensive burger... An environment where giving one coin to a pitiful child in front of a restaurant results in over ten children surrounding you... A street vendor selling what is likely garbage food (pagpag) for 10 pesos (250 KRW), encouraging people to eat the cartilage between the bones of fried chicken wing bones with no meat on them... Truly incomprehensible scenes unfold.

Well, it evokes various emotions like conscience, pity, sympathy, and curiosity, and that's interesting in its own way, but...

Anyway, I had the opportunity to film a video of a commoner's home in the lower class of Filipino society for comparison with Candipallas, and I took it. When I showed it to my friend, they also said "Wow..." in surprise.

As I mentioned earlier, I'm an experientialist and like to experience things with clear comparative advantages, but I couldn't bring myself to accept the homeowner's offer to stay the night. The living conditions were that poor; I couldn't even stretch out my legs to lie down, it was too cramped, the bathroom had no toilet seat, there was only one room for the kitchen and bedroom, and there were issues with smell and hygiene. (Moreover, this wasn't even the worst house I've seen. It was a babae's house, where they just put a tin roof on bricks and called it a home, living with their family. I froze for a moment, feeling a sense of dread, and the night scene in that alley, that house, and that feeling still come to mind sometimes, even after 8 years.)

In any case, this is one of the rare instances where I was satisfied with a brief glimpse in my life and gave up on the experience. The owner seems to live there nonchalantly, which is strange...

I don't remember the location anymore, but... it was a house that made me ponder a lot... I'm uploading the video here.

Kandipalas Review Comparison

To provide an easy-to-understand, extreme comparison for the review of the upscale neighborhood of Kandipallas, I want to upload an interior video of a house in the lower-income area of Angeles. The homeowner's face briefly appears in the video. I want to mosaic their face for privacy, but I don't know how to do it.

I'll offer 1 point as a reward.

Part 2. After getting my friend's permission, I waited impatiently for him to leave for work, my mind racing with various scenarios.

The next morning, I rushed to wake my friend up. "Get up! It's time for work..."

Once my friend was ready and out the door, I grabbed a can of coke from the fridge, took a sip, and took a deep breath. Then, in the empty house, I started acting out the scenarios I had envisioned. In this moment, I was Choi Min-sik, Han Suk-kyu, aiming for an Oscar. Naturally! Naturally! But definitely like a resident of Candy Palace!!

After practicing, I went to a bar. I picked out a bar girl I liked and brought her back to a cafe to chat. Then, I casually said,

"Want to come over to my place?"

Technically, it was my friend's place. But such details disappear into the fog of capitalism. The important thing is the word "Candy Palace." The moment I said that magic word, the bar girl's eyes changed. It was like a commoner NPC seeing a royal palace pass.

Really? Candy Palace?

At that moment, I pretended to be unfazed.

Inside, I was already a triumphant general.

"Well... it's just a house."

And then, we finally arrived.

The lobby of Candy Palace.

The air conditioning was as cold as Siberia, and the marble floor made me feel guilty for dragging my slippers. The security guard greeted us like a hotel employee. At that moment, the bar girl's expression shifted.

"Wow... do you live here?"

No.

But in the elevator mirror, I casually glanced at my phone's clock. Like a third-rate actor faking wealth I don't have. My heart was screaming inside:

"Look, people. I've reached a high place too!"

The problem arose after we entered the apartment. My friend lives really well, and the view is insane. At that moment, the bar girl turned into a real estate YouTuber.

"Oh my god... the view is amazing... are you super rich?"

Leaning back on the sofa, I pretended to be tired.

"Ugh, I'm just ordinary."

Ordinary? I'm the same person who was calculating the cost-effectiveness of the Shawarma Shack's buy-one-take-one and Mang Inasal's PM1 discount set earlier today.

But human snobbery is amazing. In that moment, I truly felt like I was the second-generation heir of a conglomerate. I even acted nonchalantly while opening the refrigerator door.

"Want a drink?"

Actually, it wasn't my drink. It was my friend's coke.

I even bragged about the bathroom.

"The shower pressure here is great. There's warm water, an electric toothbrush, and even a bidet seat."

It wasn't my shower pressure either.

Then, suddenly, I'd snap out of it and find myself bewildered. Sitting on someone else's sofa, in someone else's house, with someone else's view as my backdrop, pretending it was all mine. It was practically a capitalism cosplay.

Then, as my friend's work hours neared, I returned to reality.

My friend texted:

"Hey, why did you drink all the drinks in the fridge?"

Only then did I revert to my true self and take the bar girl to a nearby healing motel.

But as night falls again and the neon signs of Walking Street light up, humans repeat the same mistakes. I put on my boastful mode at the bar again.

"Want to come over to my place?"

And I muttered to myself:

"Thanks again today, friend!! Thanks to you, my self-esteem has skyrocketed!!"

Thoughts on Candipallas.

Inside Fields Avenue Eurotel, in Angeles City, there's a condominium called Candipallas. From its exterior, the sky-high height and scale are overwhelming. A friend of mine lives there.

The price is said to be around 150 million (won). In my neighborhood in Suwon, a 30-pyeong apartment goes for 900 million won, so 150 million won wouldn't even buy a single room here. But in Candipallas, for that price, you can be part of the upper class and have a large bedroom, a living room, and a spacious terrace.

Naturally, ordinary Pinoys can only dream of such a place. To compare, it's not quite at the level of Tower Palace in Dogok-dong, but it's comparable to Parkview in Bundang. Within Angeles City, excluding La Grande Residence and a few other ultra-luxury condos, there's no real comparison. It's also highly recognized; most residents of Angeles City know of Candipallas and perceive it as a high-end residential facility. The interiors are also incredibly luxurious. The clean lobby entrance always has guards who open the doors for you, and the lobby has a billiard table, restrooms, and a restaurant. In an artificial pond next to the elevator, there are even koi fish.

I asked my friend, "What percentage of the population would this place be in?" He replied, "It's definitely within the top 3%." Hearing that, even though it's not my home, my heart started pounding, and all sorts of fantasies began to run through my mind.

I asked him various questions: "What's the price range?" "What services are offered within the condo?" "What are the facilities like?" "How do people view it?" "What's the etiquette for acting naturally?" "Are there any manners I need to observe?" My friend must have been puzzled by my repeated questions, asked with sparkling eyes. "What's up with this guy???"

I just said, "I'm jealous..."

At this point, my friend said something shocking.

"If that's the case, you can pretend this is your place when you meet people here!"

!!!! My mind went blank at the unexpected answer. Regaining my composure, I asked again, "Really? Is it really okay?"

"Yeah! It's fine!!!!"

To be continued in Part 2 for experience points for leveling up...

Literally on the rooftop of Angeles Candipilas. It's a rooft…

Literally on the rooftop of Angeles Candipilas. It's a rooftop lounge. I visit it at least once every time I travel to Angeles. According to a friend who lives there, ordinary Filipinos can only dream of going to a place like this. In fact, Candipilas itself is a place that ordinary people can't even dream of owning, and even a bank employee was surprised and envious when they came to withdraw money to buy a Candipilas. This statement always stimulates my desire to feel a sense of superiority, no matter how much I try to hide my snobbery and fantasies, which are deeply rooted in my heart.

When my friend was at work, I mustered up the courage and went alone. As soon as the elevator door opened, I deliberately slowed down my pace. For one reason only!

I can't look poor!!!

Honestly, my financial situation was so tight that I'd get nervous after just two mango shakes, but I acted as if I had driven a personal yacht or plane from Dubai.

When I arrived at the rooftop, the swimming pool water sparkled blue, and Caucasians were laughing while drinking cocktails. The scorching heat of midday seemed to be cooler here, closer to the sky, as a refreshing breeze brushed past my cheeks. There was also a billiards table, and I quickly scanned the guests, their natural and everyday demeanor, and resolved to blend in with them without feeling out of place.

I sat at a table with a natural stride, as if I came here every day, and for a moment, my mind went blank when I saw the prices on the menu. Why is everything so expensive!! But I nonchalantly started looking for the cheapest item on the menu. It would have been embarrassing if it took too long to find the menu, so I quickly checked the prices and looked for something that wasn't the absolute cheapest, but still on the affordable side, and could also fill me up. It was difficult to find an English menu that fit these criteria quickly. However, in a place like this, maintaining appearances was more important, so I couldn't hold onto the menu for too long. Without knowing what it was or how it tasted, I just roughly checked the prices and called the waiter, ordering as naturally as possible.

When the food arrived, I deliberately ate slowly. I didn't want to look like I was starving.

Every time I took a sip of Coke, I calculated in my head.

This bite is equivalent to one meal at a canteen. This sip is equivalent to a few glasses of gulaman...

Yet, strangely, I felt good.

The breeze was cool, and the view of Angeles from the highest point was picturesque.

For a moment, I was under the illusion that I was a truly successful person.

What's so great about life? You live for the thrill of showing off like this once in a while.

When I asked for the bill and took out money and a tip from my wallet, I felt like a conglomerate chairman signing a corporate acquisition agreement.

On the way down in the elevator, I puffed out my chest for no reason. Humans are so simple.

Just by looking at the scenery and having a meal at an expensive place, I suddenly felt like a winner in life.

I once brought some bar girls here after paying for their bar fines, and all the bar girls (3 of them) were on the verge of fainting.

When I asked them why, with a hint of anticipation, they said it was too luxurious and that they had never been to a place like this before, and they kept taking pictures with their phones.

Of course, I put on a nonchalant expression, as if this was nothing, and with all my might, I exuded superiority and reveled in the feeling of victory. The exhilarating feeling at that moment is indescribable. Of course, after coming back once, I have to eat cup noodles the next day...

This is why people need money and strive to become rich.

Five stars for satisfying the most basic human desires. The taste is not important. However, the taste is also passable.

The company that single-handedly crushed the existing "Bon-ga-ne Sundae Gukbap Cheonha" with its sign-smashing expertise.

Even Korean elders rave about it, asking if they're still in Korea, and it's become a go-to spot for countless drinkers seeking their 365-day hangover cure.

The mastermind behind the era of the "Gukbap Chung" (rice soup enthusiasts) epidemic.

We've recreated the delicious sundae gukbap taste from Korea, 100% here in the Philippines!

Beef ribs, skirt steak, flower steak Pork neck, pork jowl, e…

Beef ribs, skirt steak, flower steak

Pork neck, pork jowl, etc.

We ate yukhoe, kimchi fried rice, and more. As expected, carbs are the best.
The kimchi fried rice tastes almost the same as Korea BBQ.

Raw meat is delicious, but it's expensive at 2000-4000 per kilogram.

It's expensive for one person, but the best value for money restaurant for two people.

You can check your login status

You can see the other person's last login time by clicking on their chat or nickname.

The owner is a former handsome model, lol

This is something I'm really curious about. Can a small commercial district be created *inside* an apartment building? In Korea, commercial areas do form around apartment complexes. It's natural for businesses to pop up where people gather. However, these areas are usually formed around separate alleys or buildings, not the apartment buildings themselves. That's the difference I'm so curious about. Imagine having a barber shop, internet cafe, general store, or other small shops *within* an apartment building. It would be like Hong Kong's Kowloon Walled City...

Stages of Self-Employment in the Philippines: A Breakdown.

In the Philippines, even convenience store employees need a college degree. This often leaves ordinary citizens with no choice but to pursue self-employment.

This path involves several stages, starting with a simple street stall.

The most common item sold is a silken tofu pudding called 'taho'.
Vendors walk through neighborhoods shouting "Taho!" to attract customers, and it's no easy job. They have to make the tofu from scratch before dawn and prepare a syrup from brown sugar. Adding tapioca pearls completes the taho.

As seen in the photo, they carry stainless steel containers. They also tie and sell chicharon, a fried pork rind snack, to their containers.

With just a stainless steel container and plastic cups, you can start this business with about 50,000 KRW.

Once they save a bit more money, they can upgrade to selling 'balut', a partially incubated duck egg. While this is physically less demanding, it introduces the concept of location. Savvy vendors might even sell in the middle of a busy intersection on a traffic island during rush hour.

Balut might be unappetizing for Koreans, but Filipinos of all ages absolutely love it. Balut can also be sold by walking around, similar to taho.

A similar level of self-employment involves selling fried fish balls. Customers can choose from various dipping sauces, making hygiene a secondary concern. Sometimes, they also sell deep-fried chicks, which, along with balut, are considered two of the most unappealing foods in the Philippines.

With a little more savings, they can expand their stall, typically by setting up charcoal grills to sell various barbecued skewers. It's always a mystery how they manage unsold inventory, given the large quantities prepared.

These are the common street food stalls for ordinary people, with very meager incomes, just enough to get by.

However, some talented individuals manage to move to the next stage.

This next step is a roadside eatery called a 'carinderia'. These can be run from home or by the roadside, and startup costs are around 15,000 pesos, or about 300,000 KRW. From this point, a barangay permit is required.

They typically offer about 10 simple dishes like adobo or kare-kare, sold using the 'Turo Turo' system. Turo Turo means 'point point' in Tagalog, and most customers order a single adobo with rice, costing around 50 pesos, or 1,000 KRW.

Business becomes more complex at this stage, requiring daily trips to the wet market to purchase fresh, affordable ingredients. Lazy individuals might prefer to stick with selling balut, and not many people make it this far.

If they work diligently, they can accumulate capital and then transition into one of two businesses: a 'cantina' if they have excellent cooking skills, or a 'sari-sari store' if they prefer a more relaxed pace.

These ventures require a security deposit and monthly rent, often supplemented by help from relatives working abroad, known as 'ate' and 'kuya'.

For those who skip the earlier stages, an uncle working tirelessly in Korea might set them up, essentially a shortcut. This approach, however, has a higher chance of failure.

A cantina is an upgraded version of a carinderia, featuring a display case and tables. Those located near universities tend to do very well, with multiple cantinas forming popular food alleys.

Some Koreans also operate multiple cantinas, as it's a good way to gain experience in the Philippines with relatively low risk.

When a cantina is equipped with air conditioning, it moves beyond the basic cantina concept into a restaurant, often located in small malls or commercial buildings. Achieving great success here can lead to becoming middle class.

Sari-sari is Tagalog for 'various', and it's exactly that – a store selling a wide range of goods. They are cheaper than convenience stores but slightly more expensive than supermarkets. Most ordinary Filipinos buy their daily necessities here. Operating a sari-sari store is a dream for many Filipinos, but a dream that often remains unfulfilled.

Self-employment up to this stage is exempt from VAT, and only income tax is paid, which is usually below the taxable threshold.

In sari-sari stores, you can find items from candy to shampoo sold in single-use portions, known as 'tingi-tingi'. This is similar to the small packs of cigarettes sold by newspaper vendors in Korea in the past. Due to poverty, many Filipinos cannot afford to buy items like shampoo in full-sized bottles.

It seems that Tagalog often uses repeated words. Examples include Turo Turo, Sari Sari, Tingi-tingi, Ihaw-ihaw (grilled food), Bolabola (playboy/flirt), Paruparo (butterfly), Maya-maya (a little later), and so on.

Philippines Guide

https://m.blog.naver.com/daturada73/221376479351?referrerCode=1 This blog's Manila user manual is a fun read, cleverly and wittily explaining various aspects of Philippine culture, politics, society, and more. I'm impressed by the author's level of knowledge and even more so by their writing skills. It feels like my own knowledge is growing. However, it hasn't been updated since 2022.

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https://m.blog.naver.com/daturada73/221376479351?referrerCode=1 This blog's Manila user manual is a fun read, as it humorously and wittily breaks down various aspects of Philippine culture, politics, and society. I'm impressed by the author's knowledge and even more so by their writing skills. It feels like my own knowledge is growing. However, it hasn't been updated since 2022.

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It's a franchise that, along with Jollibee, represents the P…

It's a franchise that, along with Jollibee, represents the Philippines. It's always crowded with people, whether it's day or night, weekdays or weekends, and there's always a line. If you consider the number of people per store, Mang Inasal is probably number one. The founder of Mang Inasal originally started with a small shop in the provinces, it became incredibly popular, and after selling it to Jollibee for 70 billion won, he's now apparently living a life of real estate ventures with the Jollibee family.

While this might make you think it's incredibly delicious, it's actually just a piece of barbecue chicken with a scoop of rice. And that's it, soy sauce and chicken oil. Yet, it's immensely popular, and you can find a store in almost every bustling area.

I went to Mang Inasal inside the SM Mall and, in addition to my usual chicken + unlimited rice order, I tried a new menu item. The result was a failure. Mang Inasal is best enjoyed by ordering a piece of chicken + unlimited rice and mixing the rice with chicken oil. I highly recommend this combination. There are also many videos on YouTube about the unlimited rice challenge. People eat a bowl of rice with each bite of chicken. Is it really that delicious? I'm just curious. The barbecue chicken has a decent smoky flavor and is quite good.

While waiting for my food, playing my now-outdated Nintendo DS attracts attention from those around me, and before I know it, kids surround me, making it a bit awkward.

Grilling squid stuffed with vegetables and listening to live singers while enjoying a bucket of beer is a great way to relieve stress.

The life of a crypto investor

Lowest Price Market. The name says it all. It's a discount supermarket located in Yeonmudong, Suwon. They sell products with short expiration dates at low prices. My friend who lives in the Philippines really likes this kind of stuff.

They sell items at unbelievable prices, like 1.5-liter drinks for 600 won, a whole frozen pizza for 2,000 won, galbitang for 4,000 won, a large cup of ramen for 500 won, and small bottles of wine for 500 won. It's about 8 kilometers from my house, so I usually stop by this market when I'm in the area to pick up some things.

I met a friend through playing Tekken, which is a guy's dream, and he told me he set up an arcade at his house and invited me to play Tekken together. Not the home console version, but the arcade version. Coincidentally, this friend lives near the Lowest Price Market, so I went there.

After playing Tekken, I bought galbitang, cup ramen, biscuits, and candy at the Lowest Price Market. Here are some photos of my haul.